


I Once Met A Man With A Sense Of Adventure

by Zai42



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Dom/sub, Guess I'm Doing Foot Stuff Now Wassup Hartro, High Heels, M/M, Multi, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:20:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28737132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zai42/pseuds/Zai42
Summary: They have their patterns; Grizzop throws a wrench into them. Or a stiletto, as it were.
Relationships: Grizzop drik Acht Amsterdam/Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 20
Kudos: 27





	I Once Met A Man With A Sense Of Adventure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miri1984](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miri1984/gifts).



The shoes looked, if Grizzop were being honest, at least as lethal as anything he would take with him on a hunt. Logically he knew they were impractical; they were some slick polished material, shiny perfect black with toes tipped in bright stainless silver, the heels knifepoint-thin and at least four inches tall. They brought a rush of saliva to his mouth all the same.

“What did you buy these for?”

He was knelt before Wilde’s bed, cradling Wilde’s foot in his lap after slipping the shoes onto him, as if he were a wayward fairytale princess. Grizzop’s claws caught in the thin fabric of the stockings Wilde insisted on; he was leaving behind runs. Neither of them noticed.

Wilde flexed his foot in Grizzop’s hands and tilted his head back with a vague sigh. “Who can remember?” he said. He sucked in a breath as Grizzop bowed his head to press a sucking kiss to the jut of bone at his ankle. “It was so long ago now.”

“They suit you,” Grizzop said, muffled from nibbling at the thin, pale skin at the top of Wilde’s foot. His poor stockings stood no chance against Grizzop’s teeth but they were well beyond that, weren’t they. Grizzop looked up, eyes bright and heavy-lidded. “I think Zolf would like them, too.”

Wilde’s breath caught in his throat. Zolf who had always been so commanding, so put together, so in charge. Zolf who had crumbled so sweetly when Grizzop had tangled a hand in his hair and hissed _down._ Zolf who had haltingly confessed to being open to trying it again, maybe, someday. If Grizzop didn’t mind.

“You think so?” Wilde asked, a grin tugging at his own lips, one eyebrow arching. “Perhaps we should show him, then.”

* * *

Zolf had always taken the responsibility of taking care of Wilde very seriously. He had watched how his face had gone serene and slack the first time Zolf had held him down, and held that image close to his heart every time after, reveling in the warm glow of a job well done, a bard well taken apart.

Grizzop’s return had been explosive in several ways - not the least of them literal, thanks to Cel’s help in the matter - but his upturning of their usual norms in the bedroom had been - nice. It had been good, having someone sharp and strong to hold him down, to put him where he was wanted.

He wouldn’t expect such a thing from Wilde. It wouldn’t be fair to ask.

So how he ended up on his knees, achingly hard, with the point of Wilde’s heel resting in the dip of his throat, Zolf couldn’t say.

Wilde arched one perfect eyebrow. “Well,” he purred, low and liquid and _oh,_ it pooled hot and sticky-sweet, low in Zolf’s belly, that one syllable dripping from Wilde’s perfectly painted lips. “This is interesting.”

There’s a small part of Zolf that wanted to struggle, to wrest back control and put things back in their usual order. There was a much larger part that wanted Wilde to find other places to put that heel. He compromised by shaking like a caught beast, wetting his lips, letting them part in timid invitation.

All right, not so much a compromise.

Wilde’s thigh flexed as he lifted his foot and slowly slid the stiletto heel into Zolf’s mouth, and Zolf locked his lips around it to suck at it. Wilde was perfectly still, didn’t so much as wobble once, balanced as he was on one needlepoint heel. Zolf, even floating, wanted to crack that perfection, and lifted his hands to cup Wilde’s calf, dragging the pads of his fingers over the runs in his stockings.

He really should have seen this coming - maybe he did. Maybe that was why he pushed. He didn’t have time to properly register Grizzop appearing as if from nowhere, but now he had Zolf’s arms held behind his back. He had to use both his hands and they still didn’t close around Zolf’s wrists, but Zolf still felt pinned and helpless, and another drip of tension bled away from the core of him. He made a humming sound, indistinct and muffled.

“You can be good,” Grizzop said in his ear, close enough that Zolf could feel the points of his teeth. “I know you can.”

Wilde pulled the stiletto from Zolf’s mouth and watched him mouth desperately at the steel toe. “Tell me what you want, Zolf,” Wilde said.

Zolf licked at the pointed tip of Wilde’s shoe and didn’t answer, couldn’t answer, his mind muddled with want and that damnable thread of resistance he couldn’t bring himself to cut, that little irritating voice that insisted _fight back, stay in control, this is not for you._

Grizzop’s hand scraped along his scalp, tangled in his hair, yanked his head back hard enough that Zolf gasped. Grizzop settled his head on Zolf’s shoulder, eyeing him down the length of his body. With his free hand, he could just reach around Zolf’s thick waist to press a fingertip to the tent in his trousers, rolling it gently like it were a chess piece whose movement he hadn’t quite determined yet. “I don’t think the poor thing knows what he wants,” Grizzop said. “Would you like us to show you? What you want? What you’re good for?”

Wilde lowered his leg to nudge his toes between Zolf’s thighs, and Zolf made a high, broken, helpless sound. “P-please,” Zolf managed, and above him, Wilde grinned nearly as widely as Grizzop.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the song "In These Shoes?" by Kirsty MacColl. I don't normally mention this kind of thing but everyone should go listen to that song right tf now because the punchline is brilliant.


End file.
